A 40-pound fish, NYC day 2

While Mom, Ol and I take Manhattan, Jack is fishing in deep-south Louisiana with my dad (Jack and Ol call him Poppy) and uncle. A day of fishing sounds like penance to me, but Jack was beyond thrilled with Poppy's graduation trip idea.

They met the boat this morning at 5:30, enjoyed a glorious sunrise, and spent something like 9 hours out in the Gulf casting lines near an oil rig. Number 12, as Jack later informed us. 

At some point, Jack's baited line found a hungry fish. He started reeling, and twenty minutes, one break, and tired arms later, he pulled in a 40-pound bull red fish. Turns out it was the largest fish anyone caught today. We talked to him a couple hours later, and he was still positively ebullient, his cheeks flushed red with sunshine and pride. 

My boy (65 pounds) with his catch (40 pounds).

My boy (65 pounds) with his catch (40 pounds).

Tonight, my aunt is cooking the fish, and Jack, Dad, my uncle and my cousin's family are feasting. What a special day and what memories made!

my cousin's precious daughters, and J-bird

my cousin's precious daughters, and J-bird

Meanwhile, Mom and I took Ol to the Museum of Modern Art because he wanted to see "Picassos, Kandinksys and Piet Mondrian." Ol always says Piet's whole name. It cracks me up. Anyway, this knowledge and interest is a gift from his incredible art teacher, and we were happy to oblige his request. 

MoMA boasts a hefty $25 admission fee for adults (museums in DC are free, y'all), and we found that all but a handful of Picassos (including every single rose- and blue-period piece which were the ones Ol had studied) and Kandinskys were in storage, as was the entirety of the photography wing. I saw two Richard Avedon's. Two. For the $25 love, MoMA. Give me a break. 

Mom and Ol and "Piet Mondrian"

Mom and Ol and "Piet Mondrian"

That said, the Mondrians were wonderful, and Ol discovered Marcel Duchamp. He's still chuckling about this one.

Then through the Puerto Rican day parade, on multiple subway rides, to The Lion King and to dinner. A full, fun day. To the Statue of Liberty tomorrow, and then, home. Whew.

New York

We are in New York for Oliver's first taste of the Big Apple. As always, I am gleefully happy to be here, as is Mom, and so far, Ol seems pretty enchanted.  

Last night (after a ludicrously delayed train ride north; don't even get me started on the massive need for government investment in American infrastructure.), we ate a lovely meal at Nice Matin (the fava bean tortelloni were to die for)  before crashing into deep sleeps.

Today we went to Brooklyn for a visit with Percy and Suzanne, to a chocolate restaurant, the Empire State Building and Times Square before returning to the hotel for a rest! Ol delighted in seeing the Naked Cowboy. Seriously! LOL!

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Tonight? A perfect dinner at Boulud Sud. Aah! 

Lower School is soon a wrap for Jack

Six years ago, we had the incredible fortune to enroll Jack in the PK class of a tremendous school. Tomorrow is his 4th grade graduation, and I am exceptionally proud of how much he has grown and what a fine young person he is. 

I am not one of those who feels it's flown by. These six years have felt, for the most part, like six years. Long at times, fleeting at others. Hard, happy, full of growth, full of challenge. Exciting, dull, calm, worrisome.

In short, life. Six years of it. 

Jack is a soulful, bright child. His inner light blazes, and it is a privilege to be his mother. 

Today, as I laid out his seersucker pants and dress shoes, readied his swim bag for the post-graduation party, and made his celebratory pie, I thought about how much Jack has taught me. Parenting is a humbling, constant, funny, improvisational, tiring unknown, and I have become a better person for the experience of motherhood.

I don't know that I feel sad about tomorrow as much as I feel it a bittersweet goodbye. I have deeply loved our experience at the Lower School. It has not been perfect, but nothing is, and in that respect, I'd say it's been pretty darn close. There is something very unique about a small campus of 4-11 year olds, and while I am grateful that many of us will head to the middle- and upper-school campus together this fall, I will miss being ensconced by innocence, youth and play. Thank goodness  Oliver has three years left at the Lower School.

Thank you, Jack, for being you, for growing into yourself in such wonderful, kind, gleaming, dazzling ways.